


i don't know about you (but i'm feeling twenty-two)

by notcaycepollard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, established relationship stackie, three chaotic bisexuals in a hotel room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 20:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15081539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard
Summary: Really, Tom Holland is to blame for everything that happens that day.Seb ducks out to the balcony while Tom is busy mugging into his phone camera, touches Mackie's shoulder and leans against the glass ranch slider.“What up?” Mackie asks, eyes still on his phone. Taps his cigar against the edge of the patio table.“Tom kissed me,” Seb says, still disquieted, and Anthony looks up.“Who, Hiddleston?”“No, Holland. Just now.”“Wait, what? The kid is fucking twelve.”“Iknow,” Sebastian says. “Why do you think I feel weird about it, Christ.”





	i don't know about you (but i'm feeling twenty-two)

Really, Tom Holland is to blame for everything that happens that day.

It starts after the panel; they're in Seb's hotel room decompressing, having a drink and fucking around, reassuring Tom they don't hate him just because of his weird fanbase.

“Oh no,” Mackie says, “we hate you for completely unrelated reasons,” and Tom cracks up, shoves Mackie's shoulder before squeezing his bicep, and Seb thinks, _huh, that's handsy._ Whatever, it's nothing. Just Tom being friendly. “Okay,” Mackie continues, waggling his cigar, “I'm gonna go out on the balcony and smoke this, you two wanna join me?”

“I promised my mum I wouldn't start smoking,” Tom says, because he is a child. Seb waves Mackie off.

“It's only gonna tempt me back into it. You know it's been almost a year since I quit last time?”

“Being so good,” Mackie teases. “The fuck, man. I feel like I don't even know you. Okay, don't drink everything in the minibar, I'll be back in a bit.”

“I can't believe you promised your mom you wouldn't smoke,” Seb says, kind of awkward now that it's just him and Tom in the room. “That's cute.”

“Yeah, well. You know how mums are.”

“I do,” Seb agrees, because, yeah, there's nothing he wouldn't do if his mom asked, even now.

“Hey,” Tom says, getting up, “you want another drink?”

“Sure,” Seb shrugs, wondering if he should say, like, _are you even old enough to be drinking_ and deciding against it. He's heard the stories about Hemsworth having to buy Tom a drink, and it's not exactly like Seb's got any moral high ground when it comes to being a kid in Hollywood.

“What're you drinking? Whisky? Bourbon?”

“Oh-” Seb says, startled out of his own thoughts. “There should be a tequila there somewhere.”

“I can't find it… Oh, no, here it is. Here you go, man.” Tom sits himself down next to Seb after passing him the glass, and Seb puts his phone back in his pocket, tries to be sociable.

“Some panel, huh?”

“Fuck,” Tom groans, and it's always a bit of a trip hearing curses in Tom's voice, his accent. “I'm so sorry, oh my god.”

“Hey, it's not your fault,” Seb shrugs. “Fans, right? What can you do. We probably deserve it after the years of shit we've given you.” He pats Tom's shoulder to reinforce the point, and Tom grins at him, puts his hand easily on Seb's thigh.

“Thanks, man,” he says, and then he's twisting closer, landing a kiss half on Seb's cheek and half on his ear.

“Uh,” Seb says, not sure whether this is just Tom's brand of wriggly puppy-dog affection, and Tom laughs, leans in closer and plants another kiss properly on Seb's mouth this time.

“What—” Seb manages, more surprised than anything else, and Tom shrugs.

“You're hot, you know that, right?”

“I—okay, but— _what_.”

“Oh, god,” Tom says. “Did I misread you? Shit, I thought for sure you were— shit, dude, I'm sorry. Excuse me while I turn into dust right now.”

“It's cool,” Seb says, “I— you're not wrong, and I'm flattered, but I, uh. You know.”

“Sorry,” Tom says again. “God. Okay. So, the World Cup, huh?”

“The last time I watched the World Cup was when Romania qualified back in 98,” Sebastian tells him, and watches Tom laugh bright-eyed like he's fine with just moving on, no confusion or hard feelings.

 

He ducks out to the balcony while Tom is busy mugging into his phone camera, touches Mackie's shoulder and leans against the glass ranch slider.

“What up?” Mackie asks, eyes still on his phone. Taps his cigar against the edge of the patio table.

“Tom kissed me,” Seb says, still disquieted, and Anthony looks up.

“Who, Hiddleston?”

“No, Holland. Just now.”

“Wait, what? The kid is fucking twelve.”

“I _know_ ,” Sebastian says. “Why do you think I feel weird about it, Christ.”

“Shit,” Mackie says. Makes a face. “The fuck is up with that? You think he’s got some kind of puppy-love crush on you?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Seb shrugs. “I dunno. It’s a mystery.” Reaches out, takes the cigar from Anthony and inhales a satisfying mouthful of smoke before passing it back. “Come back inside, would you?”

“Afraid of being on your own in there? What a cradle snatcher, Seb.”

“Hey, come on,” Seb protests. “It's just. Awkward, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mackie says, “okay, I need another drink anyway,” and stubs out his cigar, leaves it in the ashtray.

 

Mackie brings it up, because of course he does; Seb was expecting it, if he's being honest. Easier to have Mackie do it on his behalf, and maybe that's him being a coward, but whatever, it's not like Mackie hadn't already gone into bat for him just that afternoon.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hmm?” Tom asks, looking up from his phone where he’s still doing some form of extremely millennial social media.

“The fuck are you doing, going and kissing Sebastian, huh?”

“You told Mackie?” Tom asks, voice rising high and a little squeaky, and Seb shrugs, nods, glances from Tom to Mackie.

“Of course he told me, man,” Mackie says. “You kiss Seb, I’m gonna hear about it.”

“God,” Tom groans. “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I’m gonna get grief about this for the rest of my life, aren’t I.”

“Nah, you’re good. The fuck made you think you could try that, though? When I’m right here? That’s cold, baby.”

“You’re not—but you—you're straight.”

“Not exactly,” Mackie says. Reaches out, strokes his fingers gently down the side of Seb's neck, and Seb shivers, can't help but lean into the touch. Tom's eyes go wide.

“Wait, you two are—”

“Now he fucking gets it,” Mackie says, leaning in to shove his elbow into Seb’s side. Seb rolls his eyes but he can feel himself flushing, reaches up to tuck his hair behind one ear before remembering, again, that it’s too short to do that anymore, and turns it into this awkward little gesture which thank god nobody notices due to how Tom’s got his face buried in his hands.

“You could have just _told me_ ,” Tom says, muffled with how he’s covering his mouth. “Instead of letting me make a complete twat of myself, oh my god.”

“It’s not something we go announcing,” Mackie says. “We keep it quiet, you know? Shit, I didn’t expect you’d go around trying to _kiss_ one of us.”

“I don’t—but—okay, but why?”

“You have to be careful,” Seb tells him. “In this industry. I know it's bullshit, I know Hollywood says they're inclusive and it won't harm your chances, but that's not true.”

“Do you think I don't know that?” Tom says. “Shit, at least while I was doing musicals everyone just expected me to be gay.”

“That’s heartbreaking,” Mackie says, “I’m so sorry that you’re starring in your own goddamn franchise, it must be truly difficult for you, man.”

“Oh, shut up. We’re not on stage, you don’t have to roast me.”

“Baby, I'm gonna continue roasting you until the end of time,” Mackie tells him, and Tom throws his head back in laughter, grins impish at the both of them.

 

“Okay, well, now that that’s all cleared up, do you still wanna maybe make out, or something?” he asks barely a minute later, entirely brazen. Leans back, hooks his leg over Mackie’s thigh just the way he had in the panel, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for a response.

“Tom,” Seb says, blinking. “What the fuck.”

“What? We’re not doing anything tonight, it’ll be fun, both of you are super hot. Zee and I fooled around a bunch while we were on the press tour for Spiderman, _shit_ , don’t tell her I told you, I was supposed to keep that quiet.”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Mackie says, “but kids these days, holy fuck. We’re not gonna fool around with you just because you’re bored.”

“It’s not just—look, I like you, okay? Not in a crush way, I just, I like you both, and I really want to get laid, and maybe it’s weird that I’m hitting on people who are basically my co-stars and who’ve also given me relentless shit for the last eighteen months, but here we are, right?”

“That’s not what’s weird,” Seb says, even as he realizes he’s addressing entirely the wrong point here. “Everyone in Hollywood fucks their co-stars.”

“Yeah, how do you think Sebastian and I hooked up the first time?”

“Then what’s the fucking problem, huh?” Tom says, challenge in his voice, and Seb can’t help but roll his eyes again.

“You're twenty-two,” he says. “Come on, man.”

“Yeah, and? What were _you_ doing at twenty-two?”

“Mostly coke and dick,” Seb admits. Next to him on the couch, Mackie smirks at him.

“Your early Chelsea days, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, I had a drug-fucked slutty phase, everyone knows it. Go ahead and rub it in.”

“Exactly,” Tom crows, like that's winning him the argument. “Look, I got signed to Marvel before I hit twenty. I go out to a queer bar, have some hookup in a club bathroom, that's news. Next thing I know, it’ll be on the front page of the Daily Mail, my _mum_ will know, it’s a total mess. I’m just, excuse my language, trying to get dicked down here, okay?”

“By the both of us,” Mackie says, skeptical. “No offence, man, but that’s kind of ambitious.”

“Well, to be fair, I originally tried it with Sebastian,” Tom shrugs. “But turns out you’re both, like, a _thing_ , so. Yeah? I guess?”

“Christ,” Sebastian mutters. Watches Tom sprawl out, all long legs and bright eyes and wide mouth, and what Seb _should_ say is, like, _let’s just put on a movie, right, take several steps back from this entire situation_ , but what comes out of his mouth is, “Dude, have you ever even kissed a guy?”

“Oh, that’s how this is going,” Mackie says in the background, low, but it’s drowned out by Tom squawking in what Seb assumes is insulted disbelief and immediately doing his best to kick Seb while not actually moving from his spot on the couch. His socked toes almost make contact with Seb’s thigh, which has Mackie grabbing Tom’s ankle, squeezing it a little.

“Be nice to Sebastian,” he tells Tom. “He looks like he’s actually considering your offer, you ain’t gonna get dick if you’re kicking him.”

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Seb says again. “Take that back, good god.”

“I know your face,” Mackie says, sly. “You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t thinking about it.”

“I’m not thinking about it,” Seb says automatically, but fuck, he is; it’s terrible, _he’s_ terrible, he’s gonna get in the worst kind of trouble if Marvel ever gets wind of this entire goddamn situation. Tom just sits forward, smiles a little.

“I have, though,” he says, sincere. “Kissed guys. More than. You wouldn’t be, you know, being a creep about it, I know what I’m doing.”

“Kissing Sebastian earlier tonight don’t count,” Mackie says, barely containing his amusement now.

“It was hardly even a kiss,” Seb contributes, shooting Mackie a look. “Just an ambush that got me in the mouth.”

“Let me make it up to you, then,” Tom says, and Seb should say no, but Tom is sliding easily into Mackie's lap, straddling his thighs and settling himself there, one hand on Mackie's shoulder, and leaning right into Seb's personal space, running his other hand up to cup the back of Seb's neck so he can tug him in.

“Smooth,” Mackie comments, and just sits back to watch, palm resting on Tom's thigh. It—it _is_ smooth, Christ, it's a move Seb might have made himself ten years ago, and even as he recognizes it for what it is Tom is pulling him in, pressing his mouth against Seb's in a kiss that's only a little bit tentative.

“Oh no,” Sebastian mutters, semi-aware he's saying it out loud. “Shit. Fuck.” And then he's letting Tom kiss him again, Tom huffing out a laugh against Seb's mouth before he bites at Seb's lower lip, pushes Seb into deepening it until it's wet and hot and kind of filthy.

 

“Oh, man, you're trouble,” Mackie tells Tom, who breaks apart from Seb, shifts his weight and slides right into kissing Mackie; it's equally hot, maybe even hotter, and all Seb can do is watch slack-jawed.

“I am so fucked,” he says, feeling like he’s about a thousand years too slow, has entirely lost track of where this has all wound up. “Christ, I thought I died on that stage, the _fuck,_ man.”

“Just go with it,” Tom suggests, cheeky, and switches back to kissing him like making out with two guys in a hotel room is a normal fucking occurrence for him, like he's not nonplussed about this at all but has been casually putting the pieces together for some time and is now collecting on all his plans. He's—Christ, he's better at kissing than he has any right to be, nipping at Seb's mouth, kissing until they're light-headed, and Mackie growls, grabs Tom by the hair and yanks him backward so he can lean in and seal his own mouth over Seb's.

Kissing Anthony is almost relief, respite, his familiar lushly full lips and the taste of cigar smoke in his mouth, and Seb exhales, closes his eyes, lets himself sink into it.

“Wow,” Tom remarks, “that is _super_ hot, shit,” and Mackie smirks against Seb's mouth, pulls back just long enough to make a smart comment.

“So why'd you hit on Sebastian and not me, huh? You letting your fans influence you now?”

“ _No_ ,” Tom says, earnest again,”god, no, I just. Okay, so I thought you were straight, and I also kind of assumed you'd make fun of me for a thousand years, because you're that kind of jerk. Seb is nicer to me.”

“You hit on Sebastian because _he’s nicer to you_ ,” Mackie repeats, and Tom shrugs.

“Technically Seb wasn't my first pick,” he says. “It's tragic but Hemsworth is relentlessly straight.”

“Oh, that makes me feel much better,” Seb says. “Hey, Seb, I picked you because you're nicer to me than Mackie and Hemsworth is too straight.”

“Come on,” Tom protests, “is there _anyone_ in this cast who wouldn’t fuck Hemsworth in a heartbeat if he offered? The man is a god.”

“True, but rude to point it out while you’re making out with us,” Mackie tells him, pinching Tom’s hipbone, and Tom squirms, grins like he knows exactly how to get out of the mess he’s talked himself into.

“You feeling left out?”

“Nah,” Mackie says. “I mean, I don’t know if you noticed here, but you’re in my goddamn lap.”

“Yeah I am,” Tom agrees, grinning again, and touches his fingers to Mackie’s jaw to tilt his face up for another kiss. Seb moves in closer to mouth at Tom’s neck, scrapes his stubble against Tom’s throat just to hear the noise he makes, and that all leads to twenty minutes later when they’re shirtless and kinda desperate, Mackie showing Tom exactly where he can bite Seb that won’t get snapped in public.

 

“Okay, so,” Tom says, arching his back in a way that is frankly slutty when Mackie rubs his thumb over one of his nipples, “we're going to fuck, right? You're not just gonna make out with me and get my hopes up and then send me back to my own room?”

“Shit, kid,” Mackie says. Pinches his nipple idly as if he’s not actually thinking about it. “That depends. What do you actually want from us?”

“I said I wanted to get dick and I meant it. I want you to fuck me, okay? One of you, both of you, I don't care, _please_ , I've been thinking about it for ages and I might actually die if you don't.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sebastian says, simultaneously shocked and a little impressed, and Tom presses his face into the curve of Seb's neck, reaches out and grabs Seb's hand and lays it against the bulge in his own jeans.

“Come on,” he says, low, “shit, feel how much I want it,” and Seb rubs his thumb down the hard line of his dick, hears Tom's breath stutter. He's wriggling in Mackie's lap, grinding down against Mackie until Mackie just lays his head back against the couch and groans.

“Tom, man, I gotta tell you, literally this afternoon the words ‘because I am a child’ came out your mouth in front of about a thousand people. Pivoting from that to _please dick me down_ is kind of a mind fuck, okay?”

“Okay, yeah, I get that,” Tom agrees, breath hitching again when Seb squeezes his dick again.

“So,” Mackie says, easy, “why don’t we start with Seb blowing you, and see where it goes from there, huh?”

“Oh, that’s what we’re gonna do?” Seb says, trying for a little edge in his voice, but it just comes out rough, sex-fucked already. “Mackie likes to watch,” he tells Tom, “that’s his thing. And telling people what to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom says, a little high-pitched again, and Seb takes pity on him, unbuttons his fly so he can stroke his dick properly. “Oh,” Tom gets out, “yeah, okay, that. That sounds good, shit, really good.”

“Not on this couch, though,” Seb says. “I already hurt my back today.”

“Yeah, I saw the video, the fuck were you doing, backflips?” Anthony stands up, slinging Tom over his shoulder, and takes the few steps to deposit him on Seb’s bed; Seb follows, stripping off his sweater and kind of wondering again how it is they got here.

“I can do a backflip,” Tom tells them, falling back against the pillows and huffing in frustration as he kicks his jeans off, and Seb rolls his eyes, lets Tom reach for him to pull him into another kiss.

“So,” Tom says after a few minutes, shivering with impatience, “you were gonna suck my dick, right?”

“Jesus _Christ_ you’re eager,” Seb mutters, but he shifts down to kneel between Tom’s thighs, glances up at Tom and Mackie sprawled out at the head of the bed. “Tell me again you’ve done this before, Christ, I’m gonna feel like way too much of a creep otherwise.”

“I have definitely had my dick sucked before tonight,” Tom says. “You’re good, you’re great, can you _please_ just put it in your mouth already?”

“Yeah, Sebastian,” Mackie says. “Put it in your mouth, come on.” There’s nothing that Seb can say to that, so he just hooks his fingers under the elastic of Tom’s underwear, pulls them down and exhales hot over Tom’s dick before taking it all the way down into the back of his throat.

 

“Oh,” Tom says, “ _oh_ ,” and clutches at the sheets, arches his hips and thrusts into Seb’s mouth. “Yeah, god, Seb, your _mouth_.” And then there’s the unmistakable noise of kissing; when Seb glances up, Tom’s grabbed Mackie, is gasping desperately into his mouth. Seb pulls off, drags his tongue in teasing little swirls around the head and then takes him down again, tastes the salt of pre-come. Tom’s dick is bigger than he might have expected, solid and thick, heavy on his tongue, and Tom settles a hand on the back of Seb’s head, tugs at his hair a little.

“Can you—” he says, “fuck, put your fingers in me,” and Seb pulls off for a minute, sucks his fingers into his mouth to get them spit-slick and then takes him back in, rubs the pad of his middle finger over Tom’s puckered hole and pushes just a little, feels how tight he is. “Yeah,” Tom gasps, “yeah, like that, come on, I’m not fucking fragile,” and Mackie cackles with laughter.

“You hear that, Sebastian? He’s not fragile.”

“You wanna pass me the lube, then?” Seb says, “it’s in the nightstand, I already unpacked it,” and Mackie laughs again, flings it at Seb’s head. Seb uncaps it, drips lube over his fingertips and gets back to it, taking Tom into his mouth at the same time as he twists one finger right up to the knuckle.

“You think about this while you’re jerking off?” Mackie murmurs. “Yeah, Tom, I think you do.”

“Only once,” Tom says. “Twice, maybe. God, yeah, more.”

“Are you like this with everyone you fool around with?” Mackie asks. “Still waters, Holland. Go on, baby, give him what he wants.”

“What I _want_ is for you to fuck me,” Tom says hopefully. “Ideally before I come, which— _shit_ —is gonna be way too soon if you keep doing that, holy _fuck_.”

“Aren’t you supposed to have a bunch of stamina? You telling me you can’t go a second time?”

“I guess if you put it like that,” Tom gasps, and Seb figures that’s a sign he should push in another finger alongside the first, tripping the pad of his finger barely over Tom’s prostate.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Tom slurs, “do that again,” and his hips jerk irregularly, dick dripping more pre-come over Seb’s tongue. Seb shoves his fingers in deeper, pulls them out and rubs lightly around the rim, pushes in again and angles right for Tom’s prostate this time. “Shit I’m gonna—shit, _shit_ ,” Tom swears, and then he’s coming hot and salty-bitter right down Seb’s throat. Seb swallows around him, keeps going until Tom’s shivering all over and then pulls away, and Tom blinks at him unfocused, touches his fingers to Seb’s lower lip and exhales shakily.

 

Seb pulls his fingers out, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sprawls out at the foot of the bed.

“C’mere,” he tells Mackie, and Mackie doesn’t move, reaches for Seb and yanks him up the bed. They kiss, idle, Mackie licking at his mouth like the taste of Tom’s come is doing something for him, and Seb gets Mackie’s underwear down, strokes his dick. “Can I—” he says, licking his lips, and Mackie smirks at him.

“I don’t think the kid is done with you yet. Hey, baby, how you doing?”

“Fuck,” Tom says again. Stretches out, takes a deep breath. “Does he do that to you every time?”

“Nah. We’re old, right. Sometimes we just jerk each other off in the shower and fall asleep in front of the TV, ain’t that right, Sebastian?”

“That is not true,” Seb says, voice rough now from having a dick halfway down his throat. “It’s only ever you falling asleep, man.”

“Oh, I see how it is, I see how it is. This guy, honestly. So, Tom, that enough fooling around for you?”

“Hell no,” Tom laughs. Wriggles up between the two of them, grabs at Seb’s dick and slings his thigh up over Seb’s hip. He’s already hard again, that little shit, dick leaving wet smears along Seb’s bare skin. “I still want it, man. You should fuck me, Seb, c’mon.”

“I don’t think you’re ready,” Seb tells him. Pushes two fingers back into Tom’s ass, fingers him slow and scissors his fingers open, careful, testing the stretch. “Be honest with me, you ever done this before?”

“Not _specifically_ ,” Tom says, breath hitching. “Definitely familiar with the concept, though, so don’t let that stop you.”

“I kind of feel like we’re well past that,” Seb says, even as he thinks to himself _Jesus Christ I am so fucked_. “Just checking how gentle I need to be.” He cracks open the lube again, drips a little more against the seam where his fingers are pressed into Tom’s ass, and works a third finger in, fucks them in and out for a few minutes. “Okay, this is gonna be easiest if you’re on your knees.”

Tom is pliant, lets Seb and Mackie arrange him how they want him— _Christ_ , Seb thinks, a litany on repeat—and once Seb’s kneeling behind him, three fingers back in his ass and the line of Tom’s spine supple all the way up to where he’s got his face pressed against Mackie’s thigh, it gives Seb sudden ideas.

“Seb’s thinking about eating your ass,” Mackie tells Tom confidentially, and Seb flips Mackie the bird, rubs his thumb over Tom’s hole. “Oh, come on, tell me you ain’t, I know that face. He’s really good at it, you know. I know what that mouth do.”

“ _God_ ,” Tom says. “Okay, fuck, that—wow, that’s really hot—but you should, you gotta fuck me, man.”

“I’m getting to it,” Seb says, “have a little patience, okay,” and Tom nods.

“Can I—I mean, I really want to blow you,” he admits, looking up at Mackie.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Mackie tells him. “Go on, baby.”

“I _will_ , if Seb ever gets his fucking _dick in me_ ,” Tom says, frustration in every syllable, and Seb figures he should stop prepping him and just get on with it, because yeah, he remembers being twenty-two and invincible, so desperate to get fucked it feels like he might actually die without it. He grabs a condom, rips open the packet and fumbles it onto his dick, slicks himself up.

“Breathe out,” he says, rubbing his dick up against the rim of Tom’s ass, and presses his palm flat against the base of Tom’s spine, pushes forward just a little.

“Oh _god_ ,” Tom says, high-pitched, and then he’s arching his back, grinding back against it, fucking himself right onto Seb’s dick. “Yeah, yeah, fuck, get it in me,” and as Seb slides all the way in Tom just sort of melts into it, breathes out and in again and then sucks Mackie’s cock right into his mouth.

 

It’s all—Jesus, it’s just all entirely too much, it’s hot and tight and Tom is moaning around Mackie’s dick, and Seb’s pretty sure it's gonna be all over way too soon if he's not careful.

“Fuck,” he says, biting it out. “Fuck, yeah, that feel good for you?”

“I think it does,” Mackie says. Settles his hand in Tom's hair, drags his fingers through the length of it and makes a fist, pulls a little, and Seb gets this brief weird flare of jealousy at the gesture.

“Fuck,” he says again, and fucks into Tom slow and deep, grabs him by the hips to yank his ass up higher. “Oh, _shit_ that's good.”

“Harder,” Tom demands, pulling off Mackie's dick so he can take a breath, and Seb smacks his flank before he thinks twice about it, watches Mackie tighten his fist in Tom's hair and drag his mouth back to his dick. But Seb's always been good at taking orders, and apparently it works just as well from a mouthy English twenty-two year old all whip-strong and lean muscle, because he snaps his hips harder, pulls out and shoves all the way back in, relishing Tom's strangled noise of pleasure.

“Shit, your _mouth_ ,” Mackie growls, and when Seb looks up again Mackie's got the unmistakable expression of someone who's about to come so hard it might hurt; he yanks Tom off at the last minute, jerks himself for a couple of strokes and shoots all over his stomach, his cut abs and smooth dark skin, and Tom makes this dissatisfied little noise like he would have rather had Mackie come in his mouth.

“Shut up,” Seb says, and fucks him harder now that Tom's not concentrating on the dick on his mouth; both of them are breathing hard, gasping with it, and the slap of skin on skin is unmistakably filthy. He slides his palm down over Tom's hip, his thigh, grabs at his dick, and that makes Tom gasp out another little noise, quiet and needy and wanting.

“Let me—” Tom says, and moves to turn over; “I want to see your face when you come, right,” and Christ of course he fucking does, he wants everything, apparently, but Seb pulls out, lets him settle on his back and spread his legs, and then he's sliding back in easy now, burying his dick right up to the hilt and watching how Tom's mouth falls open as his eyes flutter closed. “Yeah,” Tom says, “ _oh,_ yeah,” and hooks his knees up over Seb's shoulders, folds himself practically double like he's just showing off how flexible he is. Seb grabs at Tom’s dick; he's painfully hard, leaking pre-come wet all over Seb's fingers, and Seb rubs his thumb through it, slick, listens to Tom groan.

“This is the hottest thing I have ever seen in my _life_ ,” Mackie says, “guys, let’s switch it up and just do porn from now on, we’ll make a fucking fortune,” and when Seb glances up at him he’s smirking wickedly, palming over his dick like he’s half-hard again just from the show of it. It’s enough to almost tip Seb right into the brink; he has to bite his lip hard and sharp, close his eyes for a minute.

“Fuck,” Tom gets out, “that—yeah, right there, fuck,” and he tightens up, flushes all the way down his chest, comes hot and messy all over the both of them. That pushes Seb over the edge; he has to brace himself as he comes, light-headed and ears ringing, and it’s a goddamn miracle he doesn’t wind up collapsing into a sweaty heap and crushing the shit out of Tom.

 

“Hell yeah,” Tom says after all of about thirty seconds, because apparently he does have an obnoxious amount of stamina and doesn’t need to lie down for the next ten hours to get his energy back. “I— _oh_ , that’s, ugh, that feels so weird.”

“Yeah,” Seb says, dry, as he pulls out, careful with the condom. “The joys of getting fucked, I promise you it’s never gonna not feel a little weird.”

“Huh,” Tom says, light. Settles himself in between the both of them, kisses Mackie and then Seb easy like he’s earned it. “That was great. It was great, right?”

“Yeah, it was alright,” Mackie says, and Seb snickers, can’t help it. Tom makes a face.

“I sucked your dick,” he tells Mackie, “you have to be nice to me now.”

“You little shit, Mackie says. “Was that your plan all along?”

“No! Not even a little bit. It’s just manners, right? Once someone’s had your dick in their mouth you can’t be mean about them in public, that’s, like, rules. Etiquette and shit, man, you know.”

“Oh I see. I see. Okay, well, if it’s _etiquette_ , man, then yeah, you’re not bad.”

“Come on, would it kill you to tell me I’m good at something?”

“You _know_ you’re good at it,” Mackie says, relenting, “you don’t need me to tell you. But you are. It was good, baby, it was fun.”

“He’s needy,” Seb murmurs, and Mackie laughs, kisses Tom’s forehead in an unchoreographed moment of sweetness. Tom actually squeaks, goes all boneless and blushing and pleased, and that makes Mackie laugh harder, lean over Tom to kiss the corner of Seb’s mouth.

“Okay,” Tom says after another couple of minutes of combined snuggling and bickering, during which Seb feels himself slide inevitably towards sleep, “well, I better go, Tom and I are getting up in the morning to watch England play Panama. This was fun, guys, let’s do it again sometime.” He gets up, fumbles for his clothing and yanks his jeans back on, does this awkward little shuffling wave like he’s not sure whether or not to kiss them goodbye, and then he’s gone, suite door slamming behind him.

“Well,” Seb says. “The fuck was that?”

“Baby, shit if I know,” Mackie says. Stares at the ceiling for another minute before rolling onto his side, running his palm down Seb’s hip. “Fun, though.”

“I guess,” Seb agrees. “No, you’re right. Fuck me, I’m exhausted, why the fuck did we let a twenty-two year old take advantage of us.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mackie shrugs. “I wasn’t backstage doing push-ups and high kicks earlier today, though, so maybe that’s why you’re so tired.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Seb yawns. Stares into space for a minute. “Wait, that little shit told me this morning he thought he was getting sick, if he gets me sick after another fucking con I’m gonna sic my instagram fan squad on him.”

“You do that,” Mackie says, and Seb laughs awkwardly, reaches for his phone.

_You better not have gotten us sick, man. If you do I’m telling everyone you’re still a virgin who can’t drive._

_ommgggggg,_ Tom texts back a few minutes later. _no don’t! so mean. thanks for the night xx_

“English people always end their texts with kisses,” Mackie says, hooking his chin over Seb’s shoulder. “So weird, right. Ooooh, I’m Tom, thanks for the night.” He makes exaggerated kissing noises until Seb shoves his palm over his mouth, falls back into bed and drags Seb with him. “Tell me you’re not getting up to watch the match with the Toms, baby.”

“Shit no,” Seb says, yawning again. “I’m gonna take advantage of waking up in a bed with you in it.”

“Aw,” Mackie murmurs, “that’s sweet, baby,” and as tempting as it is to fall asleep just like that, sweaty and sticky with come, Seb thinks he should probably haul himself out of bed, brush his teeth and take a shower and be an actual human about all this.

“I missed you,” he says, trailing his fingers down Mackie’s chest. “We should try and get more cons together like this.”

“Yeah,” Mackie agrees, “it’s a good time, alright. They can hold the Tom Holland show, though.”

“You know that’s never gonna work again,” Seb tells him. “He’s right, once you fuck someone you can’t be mean about them in public. We have to be nice to him from now on.”

“Ughhhhhh,” Mackie groans, exaggeratedly theatrical. “Fuck, what a mistake.”

“You think he’s sweet,” Sebastian says. “C’mon, you do.”

“You’ll never hear me say it,” Mackie says. “Fine, he’s not the worst. Ugh, this bed is a mess, we should go sleep in my room.”

“That’d mean putting clothes back on to get there,” Seb points out. “Come on, let’s go smoke a cigar in the jacuzzi, or something.”

“Sounds good,” Mackie murmurs. “Hey. Sebastian.”

“Hmm?”

“I missed you too,” Mackie tells him, and Seb hears what he’s not saying, the words they don’t say out loud. Smiles at Mackie, can’t help it, and Mackie smiles back, touches his fingers to Seb’s mouth.

“Tom Holland is still a little shit, though,” Mackie adds, smirking, and Seb throws his head back, laughs harder than he has all day.

**Author's Note:**

> well, this was clearly inevitable after watching the disaster that was the ACECon panel, so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> (this is at least one-third the fault of everyone on tumblr who was like, no you should write it I want that fic, because you know how suggestible I am)
> 
> i am [on tumblr](http://notcaycepollard.tumblr.com/)


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